You Save Me
by soccerchic6
Summary: Daryl and C.C. are both from different worlds until a zombie apocalypse brings them together. They each must learn to look past the stereotypes as neither is what the other initially assumes. Daryl/OC!
1. Chapter 1

**So, I decided to jump on the Daryl/OC bandwagon, especially after the latest episode just made me even more obsessed with him. ;)**

**This story starts during Season 1 and introduces my OC, Candice Carraway, and her brother, Matthew. I have to point out that my only "The Walking Dead" knowledge comes from the t.v. series as I have not read the comics for fear of spoilers. I'm apologizing in advance is my timeline is a bit off or if I have some facts wrong.**

**Please enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own "The Walking Dead".**

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><p>"<em>Paging Dr. Carraway. Dr. Carraway to the emergency room."<em>

C.C. resisted the urge to groan out loud. She had been relishing the few moments of rest she had finally managed to get. Her head was pounding, her feet were aching, and if she didn't get at least one hour of sleep, she was afraid she was just going to drop from exhaustion.

Reluctantly, she stood, stifling a yawn with the back of her hand and walked over to the phone that was hanging on the wall of the locker room. She punched in the code to the emergency room, leaning her back against the wall as she tried to relieve some pressure off of her tired body.

"This is Dr. Carraway," she said into the phone.

"_Dr. Carraway, we need you down here,"_ the head nurse's voice sounded frantic. "_We just got an influx of patients, all complaining of the same thing – body aches and fever."_

C.C. pinched the bridge of her nose. Her shift had ended two hours ago, but the patients had kept on coming. She sighed wearily, sweeping back the strands of hair that had come loose from her ponytail.

"I'll be right down," she replied, hanging up the phone and moving over to her locker to grab her coat.

It came with the territory, she supposed. She had long grown accustomed to the lack of sleep. Pulling all-nighters, countless hours spent studying while everyone was out partying and enjoying college life to the fullest. The studying had paid off, though, graduating top of her class and earning her residency in the best hospital in Atlanta.

She made her way down to the emergency room, pulling her stethoscope around her neck before skidding to a stop as she got to the entrance. It was overflowing with people. She got pushed aside as an orderly rushed by with an empty wheelchair.

"Sorry, doc!" he called out over his shoulder.

C.C. waved him off and made her way to the nurse's station, nearly getting run over again as a medical team charged by to the ambulance entrance. Dr. Beckett, the head of the emergency department, was flipping through a stack of patient files.

"What's going on?" C.C. asked worriedly. It seemed to her that the number of patients had nearly tripled since she had taken her break almost fifteen minutes before.

"That's what we're trying to figure out," Dr. Beckett said gravely. He set down the paperwork and put an arm around her shoulder leading her to a discreet corner away from the bustle of the emergency room. He lowered his voice so that only she could hear. "It's almost like some sort of epidemic. They're all complaining of the same things, and no one is getting any better. All the hospitals are booked...every one of them reporting the same thing. We're setting up triage outside in the parking lot."

C.C. nodded. "What do you need me to do?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "Everything?" Beckett threw her a tired smile. "Actually, you're more use to me if you go home and get a few hours of sleep."

"I'm fine," she said, forcefully. The harried activity in the emergency room had sent the adrenaline rushing through her body, overtaking her previous exhaustion. "I'll take over outside."

"C.C.," he grabbed her arm to stop her. "You're running on fumes. I know your shift ended a couple of hours ago...you've been on your feet for almost twenty hours."

She let out a breath. "Okay, I'll go get some sleep, but I'm not going home. I'll be in the break room. You're going to need me here in case this _is _some sort of epidemic."

"Your dedication and perseverance never ceases to amaze me. That's why you were my best resident and now my favorite doctor," Beckett replied, shaking his head in amusement. "But I need you at your best. Go home, get at least six good hours of sleep, and then report back here." She opened her mouth to protest but he held up a hand. "We can't afford to have our doctors falling victim to whatever's going around. C.C., I'm telling you this as a friend. I need you here, yes...but I need you at one hundred and fifty percent. The only way you can do that is if you go home and get some real sleep."

C.C. chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully. She looked around the emergency room. They certainly had their hands full. The hospital administration seemed to have pulled out every available nurse and doctor down to the emergency room. After a few seconds, she nodded reluctantly.

"Six hours," she finally conceded. "I'll be back before you know it."

As she gathered her things and made her way to her car, she became oblivious to her surroundings. She was too focused on the rock music blaring through her stereo as it kept her from falling asleep behind the wheel. C.C. didn't notice the surprisingly empty Atlanta streets, nor the lack of cars as she entered the parking garage to her apartment building. She didn't notice that Tom, the overly cheerful doorman, was not there to greet her, nor the obvious lack of noise that usually came from her neighbors.

All that mattered, as she locked the apartment door behind her, was the comfort of her bed, which she immediately fell into, scrubs and all. After a few seconds, C.C. succumbed to a deep sleep, dead to the world.

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><p>The first thing C.C. noticed when she woke up was the fact that it was unnaturally warm. She stretched out luxuriously, letting out a loud yawn. Her eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the sunlight as it streamed through her bedroom window. As her mind began to clear of sleep, she suddenly realized that she had overslept. She quickly jumped out of bed, practically ripping her curtains aside and looking up at the sky. It seemed to be late afternoon.<p>

_Shit_, she thought bitterly as she removed her scrubs and went into her closet. _Shit, shit, shit..._

A quick glance at her alarm clock showed her the cause of her tardiness. Apparently, the power was out. That would explain why her air conditioner was out, too. C.C. made a mental note to check in with the building repairman to see what had caused the power outage. She briefly wondered if only her building had been affected or if it was more widespread. That thought made her hurry as she realized that the hospital would be running on generators and that they needed her there _now_.

A sudden noise made her pause, her hand poised in mid-air as she reached for a fresh pair of scrubs. It was coming from the kitchen. She stifled a gasp with the back of her hand at the sound of dishes breaking. Someone was clearly ransacking her apartment...and she was standing around in her underwear.

She quickly pulled on an oversized t-shirt and grabbed the nearest weapon-like item she could find - an old baseball bat she kept in the back of her closet. Her bare feet moved carefully over the hardwood floors, inching her way out of her bedroom with the bat gripped in her hands.

She quickly noted that her front door had not been forced open. But it was also locked from the inside and there was a chair propped up against the door handle. C.C. frowned, her heart pounding in her chest at the thought of being locked inside her apartment with a robber and possible rapist.

"Good, you're awake," a voice called out from the kitchen.

"Jesus, Matty!" she cried out, clutching at her heart. She glared at her older brother. "What the hell are you doing here?" She glanced behind him. He seemed to have, literally, raided her kitchen cabinets. "Wait, scratch that. What the hell are you doing, period?"

"Get dressed. We need to get out of here."

It was only then that she noticed the a stuffed backpack on the kitchen counter and the duffle bag on the dining table.

"What? Why?"

"Jesus, you don't know?"

C.C. tossed the bat on her couch and walked to the kitchen. "Know what? What's going on?"

"The world's gone to shit, C.C. I don't know what the hell is happening, but it seems like everyone's gone crazy."

It took a moment for his explanation to register. She leaned back against the kitchen table, arms crossed over her chest, waiting for him to start laughing. When he didn't, she let out a chuckle.

"Good one, Matt. If you needed money, you could've just asked me instead of taking my stuff. Seriously, I - "

"This _is _serious!" He moved to stand in front of her and grabbed her arms. "C.C., listen to me. We need to leave. Right now."

She frowned at him. "Okay, now you're scaring me. Look, why don't we just sit down and - "

"Candice!"

Her eyes snapped to his. It was the use of her name, more than anything, that captured her full attention. It was a name she rarely used, having always been known as C.C.

"Matthew?" she retorted, though there was no bite to it.

"Please, just..." His light gray eyes, so like her own, pleaded with her trust him. "Just go get dressed, and pack some clothes. We need to leave."

"Okay," she nodded, agreeing so that he would calm down. She took the duffle bag from him. "Give me a few minutes."

C.C. went back to her bedroom. She quickly changed, then stuffed as much clothes and toiletries as she could into the bag. She had to admit she was a little scared. The last time she had seen Matt so serious was when he turned eighteen and told her he was leaving their parent's house for good. And even then there had been a joking quality about him...almost as if he was having the last laugh even though the situation was far from funny.

As unbelievable as it seemed, she was sure that he was telling the truth. And she had a nagging suspicion that the sickness she had seen the day before at the hospital had something to do with whatever was going on.

She took one last look around her room, unsure if she would be returning any time soon. Satisfied that she had gotten everything, she met her brother in the living room.

"Where's your Rover?" he asked, shouldering the backpack and his own duffle bag.

"In the parking garage on the lower level. Where's your truck?"

"I parked it in the street, but we won't be able to get to it...it's too risky. Your Rover's a safer bet."

"Wait," she placed a hand on his arm. "Where are we going?"

"Mom and dad's?" he answered hesitantly. "It's the only place I could think of that would offer some semblance of protection since it's gated."

"God, I just remembered...they're in Europe. Do you think they're - "

"Let's just worry about ourselves for now, okay?" She gave him a curt nod as he handed her the bat she had thrown on the couch. "Here. Just in case."

C.C. threw him a confused look but took the bat and said nothing. She was trusting him to know what to do. Matt removed the chair from the door but hesitated before unlocking it. He grabbed the sides of her face, forcing her to look at him.

"If anything happens to me - "

"Matty..."

"No, listen!" he said forcefully. "If anything happens, promise me that you'll keep going. Don't look back, just run to your car and get the hell out of the city."

"I can't - "

"Promise me!"

C.C. glared at him but gave in to the promise. She had no intention of following through with it, but if it meant getting him off her back, then she would say what was necessary. Pulling the strap of her bag across her shoulders, she followed Matt into the hallway. Whatever the hell was going on, she was lucky to have her brother by her side.

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><p><strong>Next chapter: Meeting up with the other survivors!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**So I decided to update early as a big THANK YOU for all the reviews, alerts and favorites. :D**

**I always reply to my reviews and there were a couple I couldn't get to so here they are: **

**Dancingnancy77: Thanks for biting! ;) I hope this is soon enough. :D**

**Leyshla Gisel: Thank you! I hope you continue to enjoy the story. :) I can't get enough of Daryl, either! :D**

**Also, just a quick note to say that the second half of this chapter takes place during the episode "Tell it to the Frogs". I'm not one to rehash episodes as I assume we've all seen them so many times already, so some minor things have been changed or shortened to add C.C. and her brother in there.**

**Enjoy! **

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><p>C.C. didn't know how long they had been there. Days? Weeks? Night seamlessly meshed into day. It was all a blur to her. They had no knowledge of the outside world. All that came out of their battery powered radio was static.<p>

"We're running low on food," Matt announced.

C.C. looked up from the medical textbook she was reading. They had been living off of canned goods since the moment they had arrived at her parent's house. They rarely ventured out into the main house, afraid that they would run into more of those _things_. She and Matt had opted to remain in the basement. It had been remodeled to resemble a family room, though C.C. was at a loss to determine the purpose of it considering she and her brother had long since moved out, and her parents had never been the family-oriented type.

The basement offered them what they needed. They had a full bathroom and couches to sleep on. It had occurred to C.C. that they would eventually run out of food, but she didn't think it would be so soon.

She nodded, closing the book as she stood. "When do we leave?"

Matt immediately shook his head at her. "You're not going anywhere. I'm taking the Rover into the city to see what I can find. Figured I'd have better luck there. More stores to search."

"I'm not letting you go alone," she replied. "Either we both go or no one does, Matty."

He ran a hand through his hair, something he always did when he was nervous or agitated. It seemed to her that he'd had it all figured out. Leave without her, try to get some provisions in the city, and come back in the same day. Except they both knew that all of it was unlikely. He would need someone to help him, to keep watch.

"Fine," he finally said. "But you have to promise me that - "

"That I'll leave you behind if something happens to you, blah blah blah," she interrupted with a roll of her eyes. "We've been through this before, Matt. I make the promise with no intention of following through with it, and you accept it just so we can move on."

"I hate that you're so stubborn."

"It runs in the family," she retorted. "Look, how about we compromise? I'll do whatever you tell me to do, I promise. But I'm not going to leave you behind."

"Ugh, fine," Matt groused, throwing his hands up in defeat.

She gave him a big smile and gathered up her makeshift first aid kit. It was made up of items she had found around the house before they had taken refuge in the basement. Needles and thread, rubbing alcohol, real alcohol, band-aids, strips of her dad's old shirts. C.C. wished they could make a stop by the hospital but figured it would be too dangerous. Whatever she had on hand would have to make do.

Matt got behind the wheel as they drove out of their parent's estate, through the backroads, and finally onto the highway. The stalled cars in the opposite lanes gave C.C. an almost eerie feeling as the Atlanta skyline came into view. She wondered where those people were now and if they had managed to escape whatever horrors had taken over the city.

As they cruised by, the wind ruffled the dark blonde strands that had escaped from her messy ponytail. A passing rain cloud had offered only a sprinkle of rain, making it not only hot but humid as well. C.C. grumbled at her decision to get leather seats for her car. Even in shorts and a tank top, she could feel the sweat running down her neck, but they had both decided that they would forgo the air condition to conserve gasoline.

"Do you hear that?" C.C. sat up straighter in her seat. She could barely make out some sort of wailing noise.

Matt slowed the car down, moving over to the shoulder of the road. C.C. strained her ears. Whatever it was, the noise was getting louder.

"Look," Matt pointed out in the distance.

She leaned forward in her seat. It was a vehicle...and it was headed straight for them. The noise seemed to be the car's alarm. She glanced at Matt worriedly. While C.C. was under no assumption that she and her brother were the only survivors in this now post-apocalyptic world, it had certainly felt that way. Other than the random looters they had seen when they left her apartment, they had remained completely isolated.

The car sped past them, alarm howling loudly. Whoever was driving must have seen them because the screeching of tires and the smell of burned rubber filled the air. C.C. turned in her seat to find the car reversing back to them.

"Sweet ride!" the driver, a young-looking Asian kid, yelled over the noise of the alarm.

"Thanks, uh...you, too!" Matt yelled back.

"Where are you guys headed?"

"The city...almost out of food."

The kid shook his head. "The city's overrun by walkers. Too dangerous if you don't know your way around. Why don't you head back with us? We're camped out in the woods."

"Us?"

The kid jerked a thumb behind him, and it was only then that C.C. noticed a big box truck also making its way down the road. Matt glanced over at her, and she nodded. They had been cut off from the world for way too long. They needed some human interaction. Her brother gave her a small smile, then turned the car around to follow their fellow survivors back to camp.

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><p>C.C. rolled her neck on her shoulders. Maybe sleeping in the Rover hadn't been such a good idea. But she had to admit that sleeping was sleeping no matter where she was. After years of studying and then the countless hours spent at work, she felt that she was finally catching up on all the sleep she had missed before things had turned to shit.<p>

Their arrival the day before had certainly been full of surprises. Not only had a family been reunited but the other members of the camp had been a little surprised to find that two more survivors had now joined the group. She and Matt had introduced themselves and related their "survival story" at the campfire the night before.

She got out of the vehicle, letting out a low groan at the soreness in her muscles. C.C. tried to smooth the wrinkles from her clothing the best that she could. She made a mental note to meet later with maybe Rick or Shane. She and Matt still needed to go back to their parent's house to get the rest of their stuff, having left everything behind when they had left the house for food.

There seemed to be a big commotion coming from the woods and she frowned, looking around for her brother. Just as she was about to call out to him, he emerged from the woods with the other survivors following behind him.

"What's going on?" she asked worriedly.

"Kids found a walker in the woods," he explained, leaning against the Rover when he reached her. "But everyone's okay. That hunter guy shot it in the head."

"What hunter gu - "

"Merle!"

C.C. turned around to see a man walking into camp holding a crossbow in one hand and a string of squirrels in the other. She noted his well muscled arms and overall athletic build. He gave a rather rugged impression, what with his worn boots and dirt-stained clothing. The sweat on his face and arms seemed to make his skin glisten. There was just something about him that seemed to capture her attention, and she cocked her head to the side, frowning as she tried to figure out what it was.

"That's Daryl," Matt whispered in her ear, pulling her from her thoughts. "Merle's brother."

She almost winced at Matt's words. She remembered that Merle was the man that had been left handcuffed to the roof. And it looked like Daryl was about to find out just what exactly had happened to his brother. Rick approached Daryl, and she and Matt watched the exchange from their vehicle. They were close enough to hear the argument and yet far enough away to not be in their way.

C.C. tensed up as the argument escalated. Daryl tried to take a swing at Rick only to be tackled by Shane. She was never one to get into fights or even intervene in one, but she couldn't just stand idly by when Shane grabbed Daryl in a chokehold.

"Hey!" she cried out, running over to them. She was surprised to find that no one else had tried to step in. "Let him go!"

"Not until he calms down," Shane said calmly.

She turned to Rick. "How would _you _react if you just found out your brother was left behind tied to a roof? You can't blame him for reacting this way!"

Rick gave Shane a small nod and Shane finally let Daryl go. Daryl let out a few coughs, wheezing as he tried to catch his breath. She knelt down next to him, placing a hand on his chest while she examined his throat. He froze at her touch. His blue eyes looked up at her in confusion.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly.

He blinked a few times, his breathing finally returning to normal. "I'm fine," he said gruffly, pushing her hand away as he stood.

Daryl dusted off his pants as T-Dog stepped in offering his own explanation of what happened.

"The hell with y'all," Daryl shouted, swinging out an arm at no one in particular. "Just tell me where he is so I can go get 'im."

C.C. was vaguely aware that she was still kneeling where Daryl had left her. Everyone resumed whatever it was they were doing before the argument. Matt came over and helped her to her feet.

She chewed on her bottom lip as she stood there watching the men gear up to go back into town. She refrained from pacing because she knew that Matt was watching her closely.

"Don't even think about it," he said as if reading her mind.

But her mind was already made up. Matt held out a hand to stop her, but she sidestepped it. She ran over to Shane and Rick, who were having a hurried conversation about weapons and ammo.

"Maybe I can be of some help," she called out when she reached them. "I'm a doctor."

"Seriously?" Shane let out a derisive snort beside her. "You barely look old enough to drink."

C.C. chose to ignore him and kept her gaze on Rick, who also looked a little doubtful at her statement. "I am...or rather _was _an emergency room doctor in Atlanta. The man you left behind will probably need some medical assistance after being out there with no food or water."

She tried to keep the criticism out of her voice, but the look on Rick's face showed that he had still caught it. She could see the turmoil in his eyes, and C.C. concluded that it had not been his intention to leave Merle. Behind them, Daryl honked the truck's horn, yelling at them to get a move on. At this outburst, Rick finally nodded his consent.

"Alright," he conceded. "But you gotta do as I tell you. It's too dangerous over there. No heroics."

"No problem," she agreed immediately. "Let me just go get my medical kit."

Matt, having heard the conversation, stopped her when she reached their car. He grabbed her arm and led her to the side, away from any prying ears.

"What the hell are you doing?" he hissed at her angrily. "They freakin' left a guy handcuffed to the roof!"

"I don't care about the details. There's someone out there who needs my help." She reached into the car to grab her kit. "Please, Matty, let me do this. What kind of doctor would I be if I knowingly turned my back on a person that needed me?"

"We don't even know these people! You don't owe them anything!" He ran an agitated hand through his hair, knowing all too well that she was going whether he approved or not. "Fine, then I'm going, too. I can't let you go on your own."

"Just trust me," she whispered, placing a hand on his arm.

Matt shook his head at her but realized that this battle had already been lost. He let out a long, drawn out breath. "Damn it, C.C., why? Why do you want to help out this complete stranger?"

She spared a quick glance at Daryl, who was glaring at her from the truck because she was taking too long. Her gray eyes defiantly met her brother's.

"Because if it was you on that rooftop, I'd want for that complete stranger to not hesitate and go back for you, too."


	3. Chapter 3

**I apologize for the late update! Just wanted to say thank you for the reviews, alerts and favorites! :D**

**The "Vatos" episode has been modified to include C.C. :) **

**To Leyshla Gisel: Thanks! More yummy Daryl to come!**

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><p>"Let me do it," C.C. spoke up causing the men to look up at her in surprise. Other than a rather vague comment on Merle's cauterization, she hadn't really said anything. Beside her, Daryl scoffed. She took a step forward. "Look, I know I'm not much help anywhere else, but I <em>can <em>run. Let me get those guns."

Rick gave her a kind smile, and she could already hear his rejection. She wasn't surprised. Clad in only her shorts, a tank top and, thankfully, her running shoes, she knew she looked years younger than her actual age. It irked her whenever she was judged by her looks than her actual talent. It was definitely one of the reasons she was so driven - to prove that there was more to her than what they saw.

"That's kind of you to offer, miss - "

"C.C.," she interrupted, resisting the urge to cross her arms over her chest in defiance.

"C.C.," Rick repeated. "But it's too dangerous out there. Glenn knows the streets better than any of us. It makes sense for him to go in case something goes wrong. However," he added when she opened her mouth to protest, "you can be the back-up. If, for some reason, Glenn can't make it to the guns, then you can go instead."

C.C. wasn't too keen on agreeing with that but took it anyway. She knew it was the best she was going to get from him. She gave him a slight nod then followed Daryl and Glenn down into the alleyway. It was deathly quiet. The only sounds that could be heard were the walkers shuffling up and down the street.

"Stay right here and don't move," Daryl whispered, grabbing her arm and leading her into a small nook next to a dumpster.

She crouched down, ready to spring into action if needed. Daryl sat down next to her, the muscles in his arms flexing as he readied his crossbow. Glenn had already taken off, and C.C. couldn't help but bite down on her lower lip nervously. At this point, she really wished she wouldn't be needed. Not because she was afraid of running out into the street with all those walkers but because she wanted Glenn to be successful. She'd only known the kid for a day but had already taken a liking to him.

A sudden noise coming from down the alleyway made both her and Daryl tense up. Daryl looked at her long enough to throw her a glare that clearly said 'Don't move' before popping out from behind the dumpster, crossbow aimed at its target.

"Whoa! Don't shoot me! What do you want?"

C.C. couldn't help but take a peek around the dumpster. There was a kid standing there, no more than fifteen or sixteen years of age. He looked terrified, throwing his hands up in the air as Daryl approached him.

"Lookin' for my brother. He's hurt real bad," Daryl said quietly. "You seen 'im?"

"Ayudame!" the kid shouted, and C.C. immediately left her hiding place.

"Shut up! Gonna bring the geeks down on us," Daryl hissed. Then, noticing that she was standing next to him, he threw her another glare. "Thought I told ya to stay put."

"Ayudame!" the kid yelled out again.

"He's calling out for help," C.C. explained.

"Yeah, I got that," Daryl replied dryly.

"That means that there are others around. It's okay," she said turning to the kid, trying to keep her voice soft and friendly. "Maybe we can help each other out. Where are your friends?"

The kid hesitated as if not sure whether he could trust her or not. Quite frankly, C.C. didn't blame him. She would have probably reacted the same way if she found herself at the business end of a crossbow. Unfortunately, Daryl was not helping. He crept up to the kid trying to take advantage of his momentary pause only to have him scream out for help again.

Daryl slammed the butt of his crossbow into the kid's face sending him flying back onto the ground. C.C. knelt down next to him, trying her best to quiet him, but the cries for help continued to echo down the alleyway. Out of nowhere, two thugs showed up, crashing through the gate. They pushed her aside and then started kicking and beating Daryl with a bat.

C.C. didn't even stop to think about her actions, determined to get them off Daryl. She stood up, jumping on top of the guy with the bat. She wrapped her legs around his waist and circled her arms over his neck much like she had seen Shane do to Daryl. The guy struggled for a bit, probably surprised to find a woman on his back trying to choke him. Then, he walked backwards, slamming her against the wall. C.C. groaned in pain, but she tightened her hold, applying just enough pressure to make him lose his breath. The guy clawed at her arms, but she could feel him weakening.

Suddenly, C.C. felt herself being torn off the guy's back by his friend. He threw her to the ground hard enough to knock the wind out of her. C.C. wheezed out a breath, rolling over on all fours in time to see Glenn appear at the gate.

"Run!" she managed to croak, except it was too late.

Glenn tried to backtrack his steps, dropping the bag of guns in his haste. The two thugs tackled him down, and Daryl shot off an arrow into one guy's butt before they had a chance to grab the guns. Instead, they grabbed Glenn, and she and Daryl ran up to the gate just as the screech of tires filled the air.

C.C. could only stare helplessly as the car took off and the walkers began clawing at the gate. Rick and T-Dog showed up just as Daryl rounded on the kid again. She slumped against the wall, still trying to catch her breath and barely noticing that her tank top had ripped so that a piece hung loosely off to the side.

"What happened?" Rick asked, trying to keep the distance between Daryl and the kid.

C.C. pushed off the wall, tearing off the strip of her shirt and pushing it to Daryl's forehead which was bleeding profusely. Daryl jumped in surprise at her touch but said nothing. His eyes were still focused on the kid, who T-Dog was now holding down.

"What happened?" Rick asked again, gripping his gun in his hand.

"They took him," C.C. finally answered him. "They took Glenn."

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><p>"This might sting a little," C.C. said, grabbing a strip of cloth and dousing it in rubbing alcohol. "I need to clean it up and see how deep it is."<p>

Daryl gave her a curt nod, and she moved to stand between his outstretched legs. He winced slightly as she began to clean the gash on his forehead. C.C.'s hands moved expertly over the wound. She could feel his eyes on her, feel his breath on her neck, and she suddenly realized how close she was standing to him. She cleared her throat, quickly finishing up with the cleaning and then taking a step back from him.

"You're going to need stitches," she confirmed. "The wound is pretty deep."

"Alright, jus' do it," Daryl shrugged as if it was no big deal.

"I don't think you understand how painful this is going to be," C.C. carefully explained, offering him a sympathetic look. "I don't have an anesthetic to numb the pain. I also have to heat the needle to cauterize the wound and minimize the bleeding."

His blue eyes hardened when she mentioned the word cauterize. "If Merle could do it, then I can, too," he responded.

She eyed him warily, as if unsure whether she should proceed or not but the anger in his gaze left no room for argument. She gave him a small nod, going to her pack to grab a needle and thread, a bottle of vodka, and a plastic container usually used to hold small knickknacks. She filled the container with some vodka and left the needle and a long piece of thread soaking in it.

"You might want to take a drink of this," she said, handing the bottle of vodka to Daryl. "It won't numb the pain, but it'll help a little."

He took it from her, taking a long swig from the bottle and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. C.C., meanwhile, continued her preparations. She was taking all precautions possible to minimize contamination. She knew the items she had on hand were rather rudimentary, but it was the best she could do under the circumstances.

"You ready?" she asked, heating up the needle with a lighter.

"Yep," Daryl replied, taking one more drink from the bottle before putting it down.

She moved to stand between his legs again. He hissed in pain as the needle pierced his flesh. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him clench his fists.

"So...Daryl...I don't think we've been properly introduced," she said, trying to keep his mind occupied. "I'm C.C."

"_Cee Cee_?" he asked sardonically. "What kinda name is that?"

She frowned at him, not amused by the tone in his voice. "They're my initials. Stands for Candice Carraway."

A flicker a familiarity passed through his eyes at her family name, but he said nothing. T-Dog, however, wasn't so silent.

"Carraway? As in Carraway Oil?"

C.C. winced but didn't look at him. More than she hated people judging her by her looks, she hated even more when they judged her by her surname. She made a pretense of focusing on the job at hand. Daryl was actually holding up pretty good. She figured he would've passed out by now because of the pain, but he was proving to be a tough character. Of course, she shouldn't have been surprised considering her first impression of him was that of a rugged, outdoors kind of man.

"I'd rather not talk about my family," she replied curtly as she finished up the stitches.

"Holy shit," T-Dog whispered. "Your family owns like half the southern United States."

"Looks like we're in the presence of a princess," Daryl drawled out, and she was more than sure that it was the vodka talking.

C.C. frowned at T-Dog's exaggeration but decided to remain silent on the subject of her family so as not to encourage them. That and she could feel Daryl's eyes on her as if waiting for her reaction. Well, it was going to take more than that to get her riled up. Maintaining a neutral expression, she checked Daryl's cut one last time before moving back to her pack to put everything away.

"The cut should take about ten days to heal," she explained to Daryl, hopefully changing the subject. "I'll check up on it every day to make sure it's healing properly and that there's no infection. I would suggest no vigorous physical activity so as not to break the stitches but considering our conditions…" She trailed off, grabbing a protein bar from her pack before closing it up. "Just try to keep it clean and dry."

He nodded at her, and she turned her back to him to look out the window. They had decided to stay the night inside the office they had initially used to plan the grab for the guns. It was growing dark outside, and they figured it would be too dangerous to be outside looking for Glenn, or Merle for that matter, in a city full of walkers.

"Candice," Daryl called out, and her shoulders tensed at hearing her name.

"It's C.C.," she replied tersely, turning around only to have a shirt thrown at her face. She noticed that while she had been looking out the window, Daryl had removed his undershirt to give to her.

"Whatever," he countered, slinking down the wall to rest against it. He stretched out his legs and linked his fingers behind his head before closing his eyes.

She moved to one corner of the room, away from the men as she pulled off her torn tank top and put on Daryl's shirt. Stuffing the tank top in her pack, she made her way to the other side of the room where the kid was sitting next to Rick. She broke off half of her protein bar and offered it to the kid, who eyed it hesitantly before reaching for it and gulping it down hungrily.

"You a real doctor?" the kid asked as she gave him the rest of the bar.

"Yes," she replied, going back to her pack for another bar. "Why? Are you hurt?"

"No, it's just…" the kid looked over at Rick warily. "Nothing. Never mind."

"What's wrong?"

She sat down next to him as she took a bite of the bar. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rick shift so that he was turned away from them, but she knew that he was listening. It was his way of getting the kid to think that he wasn't paying attention so that he could open up to her.

It seemed to have worked because the kid leaned in closer to her and lowered his voice so that only she could hear.

"You know Spanish?" he whispered.

C.C. nodded. "A little."

He let out a breath, as if still unsure he could trust her to tell her what he was about to say next.

"Te necesitamos*."

* * *

><p><strong>* "We need you."<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**As always, thank you so much for the reviews, alerts and favorites! :D**

**Once again, the "Vatos" episode has been modified to include C.C. Unfortunately, my Netflix is acting up and since I don't know where else to watch or find the dialogue for the episodes, some of the lines have been paraphrased to the best of my memory. Also, there are some lines in Spanish. To avoid confusion, I added the English meaning of the line in parenthesis right after.**

**Leyshla Gisel: Thanks for the review! :) Yeah, real life sucks sometimes, lol, making it a little hard to find the time to write. Hope you continue to enjoy the story!**

**A big apology to EllathiaCroft. In my hastiness to upload the last chapter, I forgot to thank her for helping me out with the medical aspects of the story. Thank you so much! :) **

* * *

><p><em>What the hell are we doing<em>, C.C. thought wildly. She gripped the pistol tightly, the cold metal foreign in her hand. If they got out of this, she was definitely not going to mention it to her brother.

Tensions were running high inside the warehouse as Rick and Guillermo continued to fight over the bag of guns. She silently thanked her years of medical training for keeping calm in this situation. It had helped her maintain a calm and cool façade, while inside she was freaking the hell out.

She only half listened to Rick's reasoning as she glanced around the warehouse. She was still at a loss as to why the kid told her they needed her help. From the looks of it, it seemed as if the kid and his friends were doing damn fine on their own.

"She's a doctor, G!" the kid blurted out, causing everyone to turn to him sharply.

Daryl and Rick immediately shifted closer to her, and C.C. couldn't help but feel grateful for their protectiveness. Guillermo looked at her between the two men's shoulders, eyeing her with a raised eyebrow. He took a step forward and both Daryl and Rick tensed up, hands automatically contracting around their weapons.

"Well," Guillermo said slowly. His dark gaze moved from her to Rick. "It seems like you have two things I need."

Rick frowned, obviously coming to the same conclusion that she had concerning these people's well-being. "I don't under – "

"Felipe!"

An elderly lady appeared, shuffling her way to one of the thugs – the one that had gotten the arrow in his butt. C.C. was surprised at the sudden change in atmosphere. One second they were getting ready for a showdown and the next weapons were slowly being lowered as the lady made her way into the crowd.

"Felipe," the lady called out again, "Mr. Gilbert no puede respirar (Mr. Gilbert can't breathe)."

C.C. stepped forward, pushing her way past Daryl and Rick. Rick reached out to grab her arm. He held on to her wrist, keeping her behind him as they both walked closer.

"Que paso? Soy doctora, puedo ayudar (What happened? I'm a doctor, I can help)," C.C. said softly.

"Ay, gracias a Dios (Oh, thank God)," the lady replied, looking up at her with tears in her eyes. "Mr. Gilbert cannot breathe, he – " She cut off when she noticed Rick's uniform. "Are you here for Felipe? Please, do not take him. Felipe's a good boy."

It took a second for Rick to reply. He let go of her wrist, looking at both Guillermo and Felipe as if waiting for them to explain just what exactly what going on.

"No, ma'am," he finally replied. "He's just helping me look for a missing person."

"The Asian boy?" she asked, and Rick quickly nodded. "I'll take you. Come, come."

The lady grabbed Rick's hand and led them out of the warehouse and further into the complex. C.C. gave the pistol to Daryl who tucked it into his waistband. They passed a courtyard, then made their way into another building.

C.C. almost gasped in surprise when she noticed that they seemed to be in some sort of nursing home. Each room they passed housed an elderly resident. The lady led them through the hallways and finally out into an auditorium where she took them straight to the man that was having trouble breathing.

C.C. immediately set to work, vaguely noticing that Glenn was alive and well despite the fact that hours earlier she had seen him on the verge of being thrown off the roof. Felipe handed her a stethoscope and gave the man an asthma inhaler.

"Anyone else?" she asked Felipe once it was clear that the elderly man was okay.

Felipe nodded, limping his way around the nursing home and taking her to each room. She spent the next couple of hours examining all the residents. Rick, Daryl, and T-Dog had gone off to talk to Guillermo while Glenn followed her around. She even examined Felipe's arrow wound on his butt, much to his embarrassment. She was just washing up when the men all walked up to her.

"Doctor…" Guillermo politely trailed off as he waited to hear her name.

"Just call me C.C.," she interjected as she dried off her hands.

"Maybe we can work something out, C.C. I can offer you food, shelter and protection in exchange for your medical services," Guillermo offered.

C.C. shifted from one foot to the other. Her hands found the stethoscope still hanging around her neck, and she squeezed the instrument almost in reassurance. She looked around the room. There were many elderly residents scattered around the auditorium and still others in their respective rooms. They all suffered from some sort of medical problem or another, she had seen it firsthand.

Her thoughts strayed to Matt, waiting for her back at camp. She knew that he was probably going out of him mind wondering why she hadn't gotten back yet. As much as she wanted to stay and help, she couldn't leave Matt behind. They only had each other.

"I'm sorry," she sighed, her eyes meeting Guillermo's. Her heart fell at the look of dejection that passed through his eyes. "There's someone waiting for me back at camp. I can't leave him."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Daryl turn away at that last part. He swung the crossbow over his shoulder and moved off to the side.

"It's times like these when we learn to appreciate the people we love," Guillermo said, nodding in understanding.

"I know it's not much, but I can give you a list of medications that each patient needs," C.C. suggested. "Felipe knows these people better than anyone…I know he'll continue to give them the best care." She took off the stethoscope and handed it to Guillermo.

"No," he said, pushing the medical instrument back in her hands. "You keep it. As a thank you for helping us out today."

C.C. smiled at him and placed the stethoscope back around her neck. She followed Rick and the rest of the group outside but not before looking back one last time at the building behind them. Guillermo stood watch on a balcony above them. He gave her a small nod before moving back inside.

"Ya can't save everyone," Daryl said, nudging her forward so they could keep moving.

"No," C.C. agreed, falling into step next to him. "But I can try."

* * *

><p>"I told you guys I could run," C.C. called out to them.<p>

She placed a hand on her hip as she waited for the group to catch up. After finding out that Merle had taken the box truck, they had hightailed it back to camp. Of course, "hightail" was such a strong word. They were still miles from camp, and the sun was already going down. While Daryl, Rick, and Glenn seemed to be in decent shape, T-Dog huffed behind them, sweat running down his face and drenching his shirt.

"I'll make sure to keep that in mind next time," Rick replied as he reached her.

They paused for a few minutes. Rick passed around a bottle of water and they each took a few sips. It had been a long hike back to camp…not to mention dusty and hot. C.C. had been wearing the same clothes for three days now, and she was starting to feel grimy and in desperate need of a shower.

When they had all caught their breath, their resumed their jog back to camp. She wasn't entirely convinced that Merle had gone back to camp – something she had brought up to Rick right away. The dirt road that led up to their campsite held no evidence of tire tracks. Of course, Daryl pointed out that the wind could've blown the tracks away.

"That don't mean he ain't up there," he had said, effectively shutting her up as she had no opposing argument.

A gun shot resonated in the air, and they all stared at each other for a second before picking up their pace. C.C. ran ahead of them as more gunshots and shouts echoed around them.

"Matt," she whispered, sprinting up the hill. She reached the camp to find it in chaos. The walkers seemed to be emerging from the woods, and everyone was running around in an attempt to get away from them. "Matt!" she yelled out again.

At the sound of her voice, her brother appeared from the edge of the woods. He held her baseball hat in his hands, and his clothes were splattered with blood. She ran up to him, and he took her in his arms, giving her forehead a quick kiss.

"Jesus, C.C., where the hell have you been? I was so worri – "

A low, gurgling sound made Matt stop in mid-sentence. They turned around to find two walkers approaching them. Matt was about to raise the bat to hit them when two shots rang out. Both walkers' heads snapped back at the impact of the bullets before slumping to the ground.

"Save your huggin' and kissin' for when _after_ the camp is safe," Daryl muttered as he walked past them. He placed one more bullet in each walker's head before moving away from them without so much as a backwards glance.

The commotion began to slowly die down when everyone finally realized the attack had stopped. Matt pulled her into a hug again, squeezing her as if reassuring himself that she was alive.

"What happened?" he asked, finally pulling away from her and leading them to their car. "Why did it take so long for you to get back?"

C.C. hastily explained what happened in the city. Finding that Merle had cut off his own hand to escape, running into some trouble getting the guns, and then finally ending up at the nursing home. She carefully left out the part about the stand down, preferring to let Matt think that the initial negotiations for the guns had gone well.

"So we got to the truck only to realize that it was gone. The guys thought Merle was driving it back to camp to exact revenge for leaving him behind. We came back on foot," she finished. "What happened here? We had almost reached the camp when we heard gunshots."

"We were in the middle of having dinner, sitting around the campfire, when walkers came out of the woods and started attacking," he answered. His gray eyes darkened as he looked past her. "Shit…"

C.C. followed his line of sight. Andrea was kneeling in front of the R.V., and it took C.C. a second to realize that she was holding something…or rather, someone. She and Matt both watched in silence as the camp slowly started to react to what had just happened. Many walkers lay dead but, among them, many of their own as well.

She caught sight of Daryl who was starting to pile up the walkers' bodies on one side of camp. He looked over at her, probably feeling that he was being watched, and greeted her with a slight frown. His gaze moved to Matt, who she was still clinging to, before he looked away getting back to the task at hand.

C.C. gave her brother one last hug before moving away, her medical pack in hand. She let out a drawn out breath. It was going to be a long night.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: I apologize for the extremely late update! This chapter has been in the works for a while but one thing or another would always keep me from writing it. I'm hoping to get back to a more frequent update schedule now that things are a lot less hectic in the real world. :) A big thank you to quantumparadigm for the constant feedback and encouragement to finish this chapter! **

**This chapter takes place between the fourth and fifth episodes of season 1. Also, I have to admit, I know nothing about Atlanta or it's surrounding areas so any neighborhoods or businesses are completely made up.**

**Anyway, that's enough of me talking. Enjoy!**

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><p>"I need to go home," C.C. told Rick as she caught up to him.<p>

The entire camp was still busy from the walker commotion of the night before. One side of the camp held a burning pile of walker corpses while the other was the burial site of their own people. She and Matt had spent the rest of the night and most of the early morning helping out as much as they could. Her brother and a few of the others had gone down to the quarry to clean up.

"Don't we all," Rick replied without breaking stride.

"No, I mean, Matt and I weren't expecting to run into more survivors when we left our house. All our stuff is still there."

Rick stopped long enough to grab a shovel from the back of Shane's jeep before he turned to look at her. He let out a tired sigh, wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. He rested the shovel on the ground, forearm leaning on the handle.

"I'm sorry, C.C., but we can't spare anyone to go with you at the moment." He looked out at the active camp before moving his gaze back to her.

"It's not that. It won't take us long to go and come back. I just want some reassurance that we won't be left behind."

"What makes you think we're goin' anywhere?"

C.C. rolled her eyes at him. "Look, I'm not stupid, Rick. I know there's been talk of leaving…especially after last night's attack."

He gave her a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes as he gripped the neck of the shovel and set off again. "We'll see," he called out over his shoulder.

C.C. sighed in irritation as she leaned back against the jeep and crossed her arms over her chest. She'd only known these people for two days, and she was already being brushed off. All she needed was confirmation that they wouldn't be left behind.

Her head cocked to the side, brows furrowed as a plan began to form. Leaving Matt behind would give her the assurance she needed that the group wouldn't just leave. He would convince them to wait for her. And it wouldn't take long to get to their parent's house and back. If she left now, she would be back by early afternoon at the latest. She nodded to herself, mind set. She would go off on her own and...

"I'll go with ya," Daryl spoke up, startling C.C. and pulling her from her thoughts.

She hadn't even noticed him, though to be fair, he was crouched down fairly hidden by his tent. She pushed off the vehicle and walked over to the side where Daryl was sitting on a log doing something to his crossbow.

"Really?"

He nodded, standing up and slinging the strap of the crossbow over his shoulder. C.C. hesitated, her eyes searching the path to the quarry to see if Matt would appear.

"What's the matter? 'Fraid your boyfriend won't let ya go with me?" Daryl asked with a scoff. He shook his head as he reached down for his combat knife.

C.C. frowned at him. "Matt's not my boyfriend. He's my brother."

Daryl's head shot up to look at her. "Your…brother?"

"Yeah. What made you think - never mind. You'd really go with me?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Just said I would," he answered with an annoyed look on his face.

"Why?" She hadn't meant to sound surprised, but the question came out like that. Daryl didn't seem like the kind of guy to just help out of the goodness of his heart.

His blue eyes squinted against the morning sun as he looked at her. "'Cause you helped me," he said simply.

"I..." She really didn't know what to say. Was he genuinely grateful that she had wanted to help Merle, or was he only doing this because he felt he owed her? C.C. glanced down the trail again, but Matt was still nowhere in sight. She conceded that having Daryl go along _would _make everything a little easier. It would even give her brother the peace of mind that she hadn't gone off on her own. Her gaze moved back to the hunter, who was standing back waiting for her to make her decision. "Okay," she finally replied, nodding.

"Where do ya live?" he asked, hooking a thumb through the strap of his crossbow and following her to her car.

"Hawthorne Heights. About an hour and a half away."

"Hawthorne Heights," he repeated with a slight shake of his head, and C.C. could only guess what he was thinking. They were going to a very prominent subdivision outside Atlanta. "Alright, let's go, princess."

* * *

><p>"Son of a bitch," Daryl whispered, as C.C. eased the car into the long, circular driveway leading up to her parent's estate.<p>

"What's wrong?" she asked, body tense and alert as she searched the once neatly trimmed landscape for walkers.

Daryl, however, was focused on something else. His eyes roved over the large house that now loomed in front of them. Wide pillars lined the front of the plantation-style house. The dark red brick made for a beautiful contrast against the white decorative shutters that framed the sides of every window on all three floors.

"Jesus Christ, you live here?" he asked incredulously.

C.C. frowned at Daryl's reaction. The house screamed grandeur and wealth. Inside and out, it was the image of perfection. Only her life had been far from perfect.

"Lived," she corrected him, her voice coming out a little bitterly. "I moved out when I went to college."

He turned to look at her with a raised eyebrow. "But you grew up here. In this big ol' place." He let out a derisive snort.

Her frown deepened. It was funny the way he could say so much without really saying anything at all. His expression and the weight of his words spoke volumes.

"I know what you're thinking, and you're wrong."

"Didn' say nothin'."

"You don't have to," she answered. "You obviously know the neighborhood. You've seen my parent's house, and you think you have me all figured out."

He gave her a bored shrug, but C.C. knew he had already made up his mind.

She raked back the wisps of hair that had escaped her ponytail. "Look, thanks for coming with me, but I know the only reason you're here is because you feel you owe me. Well, you don't have to do me any more favors. We're even, okay?"

"That's what you really think? That I'm only here 'cause you went to Atlanta with me?"

"Isn't it? I know you're not doing this out of the kindness of your heart."

Daryl narrowed his eyes at her. "You don't know me."

She nodded as if to confirm her point. "And _you_ don't know _me_. Why don't we keep it that way? Let's just go in there, get my stuff, and go back to camp. The sooner we finish this, the better."

She reached out for the handle, but Daryl reached out to stop her before she could open the door. His calloused hand felt rough against her skin, and she was surprised at how gentle his touch was despite the obvious urgency in his voice.

"Stay behind me, understand? We'll need to do a walkthrough of the house first to make sure there ain't any walkers inside."

"It's empty," she informed him. "Matt and I were the only ones in the house, and we locked the front door when we left."

"It ain't a request. Ya either stay behind me or ya stay in the car."

She glared at him, hardly noticing the way his accent thickened whenever his voice grew anxious, but didn't say anything. C.C. knew that the only way to get through this was to agree with him. "Fine."

He gave her a curt nod. "Follow me through the passenger seat. Close the door but don't lock it. And keep yer keys where ya can get at 'em easily."

He made his way out of the car, and she scooted over to follow him out. It was eerily quiet. Granted, the houses in the neighborhood were a little isolated from each other. But there was something in the atmosphere that creeped C.C. out. Something almost unnatural.

At the door, Daryl turned to her and put a finger to his lips, signaling her to stay quiet. After she unlocked it and stuffed the keys in the front pocket of her shorts, Daryl grabbed her hand and forced her behind him.

"I'm not going anywhere," she hissed.

She grabbed his shirt tail to emphasize that she meant what she said. He didn't turn to look at her but gave a small nod and let go of her hand. C.C. stalked behind Daryl, gripping the back of his shirt as they moved methodically through each room starting with the upper floors. Though Daryl remained quiet, she still caught his _tsks _whenever they passed by certain rooms. When they reached the basement, where she and Matt had left their things, Daryl made a quiet, though chastising, remark about how the basement would be the worst place to hide as there was only one entrance and exit.

But it wasn't until they went into her father's study that Daryl suddenly stopped. She ran into his back and glanced over his shoulder to see what had caught his attention.

"Your ol' man's a hunter?" he asked, signaling the stuffed animal heads hanging all around the room. He did a quick once-over of the room to make sure there weren't any walkers inside, then dragged her in and closed the door behind her.

"Yes, but I doubt there are any guns in the house," she said, slumping into her father's office chair as Daryl looked around the room.

The study was where her father conducted all his business and where he spent all of his time whenever he was in town. She hadn't been inside the room in ages. A thin layer of dust had gathered on her father's mahogany desk. It sat in front of a large, stone fireplace that dominated the middle of the back wall. The fireplace itself was decorated with a portrait of her great grandfather and the founder of Carraway Oil. Other than that, the room held nothing else of interest. Bookshelves lined the walls on either side of the fireplace. An overly stuffed leather sofa with a matching loveseat were set in one corner of the room next to a glass table that used to hold various liquor bottles and decanters before C.C. got a hold of said bottles to put in her makeshift first aid kit. Her eyes roved over the animal heads hanging in the room.

"You know, when I was younger, my father would sometimes take Matt out on one of his hunting trips," she began, her father's hunting trophies spurring the memory. Daryl seemed to be paying her no attention as he continued to search the room for...well, whatever it was he was searching for. "At the time, it seemed to me that Matt always did all the fun stuff, while I was stuck with things like ballet, gymnastics classes, or piano lessons. Anyway, being my older brother, everything Matt did, _I _had to do, too so I begged my father to take me with them on a trip."

She trailed off, suddenly aware of how stupid she sounded reminiscing about what had happened so long ago. But it was one of those rare memories she had of her father actively being involved in their lives. Her fingers ghosted over the glossy surface of the desk, leaving faint streaks in the dust.

"Did he take you?" Daryl asked.

C.C. looked up at him, surprised that he had actually been listening to her. He dusted his hands on his jeans, then moved to lean against the desk in front of her.

"He did," she replied, offering him a small smile. "And I hated every minute of it. The killing of an innocent animal and then cleaning and skinning it right after." She shook her head. "I stayed inside the cabin for the rest of the trip and became a vegetarian after that."

"'Course you're a vegetarian," he said.

She frowned at his implication. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He gave her another bored shrug as if she'd just confirmed everything he suspected of her. She let out a frustrated sigh but bit back a retort. It was obvious he had already made up his mind about her, and she knew better than to change his mind. Let him think whatever he wanted. Besides, it was getting late, and they needed to get back to camp. She pushed off the chair and took a few steps, the floorboards squeaking under her feet.

"Wait." He put an arm out to stop her. His eyes were scanning the floor. "The boards are loose here."

"It's a very old house," she commented. "Wooden floors tend to warp and squeak."

"No, there's somethin' here." He got on his knees and started running his fingers along the seams between the wooden boards. Then, he took out his combat knife and used it as a lever to pull one of the boards up. "Ha! See, I told ya!"

C.C. leaned in closer and almost let out a gasp of surprise. There was a safe underneath the floor of the desk. So this was what he'd been looking for. He'd known her father would have a hidden safe somewhere.

"I never knew this was here," she remarked, kneeling next to Daryl.

"Think you can guess the combination?"

"I...I don't know." She eyed the safe, thinking hard on anything and everything her father might've been interested in. But she came up blank. Nothing but business and hunting mattered to him. "Unless..." She scooted closer to him so that their arms were almost touching. "Try 6, 15, 11, 5."

Daryl dialed the combination, then gave her an odd look when the door clicked open. She was surprised, herself. Who would've thought her father would actually use hers and Matt's birthdays as the combination?

They looked inside to find a couple of pistols, boxes of ammo, and stacks of money. Daryl stuffed the guns and ammo into her bag. He let out a low whistle as he fanned the wads of bills but ultimately left the money in the safe. It was useless.

"Alright, let's go," he said, helping her up and then carefully opening the door into the hallway.

They quietly made their way outside, walking quickly to the Rover when movement caught the corner of C.C.'s eye. It was a woman shuffling around the front lawn hedges about thirty feet away from them.

"Stay back," Daryl instructed, keeping his crossbow trained on the sick woman in front of them. He grabbed C.C.'s arm, pulling her behind him again.

"No, it's okay. I know her," C.C. said. She tried to move past him, but his grip on her wrist was too tight. She finally settled for standing next to him when it was understood he wasn't letting her go. "Inez?" she called out to the woman. "Are you okay? It's me. C.C."

The woman slowly turned at the sound of her voice, and C.C. couldn't help the gasp of surprise that escaped her lips. It _was _her former housekeeper...only it wasn't. Inez's hair, usually pulled back into a neat bun, now dangled over her shoulders in dirty clumps. A milky, white layer covered her eyes, and her skin was tinged a pale gray. The flesh around her mouth and neck was bloody and decayed, the consistency and smell of an animal carcass left out in the sun too long.

C.C. couldn't move. Even as Inez inched closer, C.C.'s feet seemed to be rooted to the ground. She had seen them in Atlanta, the rotting corpses walking around like something out of a horror film. But it was seeing Inez, who had been more of a mother to her than her own mother ever was, that finally made C.C. realize just how desperate and ghastly and _shocking _the situation actually was.

"Candice," Daryl whispered, slowly letting go of her wrist as he moved to stand in front of her. His crossbow was poised and ready, body tense as Inez picked up her pace.

But his voice sounded distant as C.C.'s mind tried to process the past few weeks in just a few seconds. It had all happened so quickly. The sickness, the deserted streets on her way home from the hospital, and then she was whisked away from everything by her brother. She hadn't had time to actually try to figure out what was going on and kept holding on to the fervent hope that everything would soon be okay.

"Candice!" Daryl hissed again and before C.C. had a chance to fully react, an arrow pierced Inez's forehead. The force of the projectile snapped her neck back before her body slumped to the ground.

It was only then that C.C. could move. She took a shaky step back, unable to move her gaze from Inez's body. Daryl quickly curled an arm around her waist to steady her.

"Ya alright?" he asked worriedly.

"I-I..." she managed to stutter, before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She could feel the tears burning in her eyes. _Get a hold of yourself, C.C., now is _not_ the time to break down. You can grieve for Inez later._

"Hey," he whispered. She opened her eyes to find him standing close in front of her, his arm still holding her steady at the waist. "It wasn't her. Just remember that. That wasn't the person ya knew."

His blue eyes were so earnest, and for a brief moment, C.C. got a glimpse of the man behind that hardened mask. The quiet strength he offered was surprising, and she just wanted to lean into him and forget about everything. And then a low growl made them both look away. Another walker was making his way up the long driveway.

Daryl reached for the keys in her pocket and walked her to the passenger side of her car. "I'll drive."

C.C didn't argue with him, and she climbed into the Rover while Daryl hurried to the other side. Her mind was still too preoccupied. Her gaze shifted to look out the window, and she found two more walkers had joined the one walking up the driveway. Daryl got into the driver's seat but hesitated before turning on the car.

"Ya scared?" he asked, and she could feel his eyes on her.

She took another deep breath, automatically reverting to her medical training. Years of learning to push aside her own feelings and blocking out all emotions other than empathy whenever those patients walked through her emergency room doors. She couldn't let this affect her. No matter what happened, she couldn't let _anything _affect her. She was determined to maintain the professional stoicism she had always kept at the hospital.

After a few seconds, C.C. finally turned to look at him. She noted his worried expression, but she kept her own face neutral. "It's my job not to be."


	6. Chapter 6

The ride back to camp was quiet. Daryl was not the kind to make small talk and for that C.C. was more than grateful. She spent the drive slouched down in her seat with her feet on the dashboard, arms resting lazily on slightly bent knees as she gazed out at the passing scenery.

But while her body presented a rather languid appearance, her mind was alert and racing. She chewed on the inside of her lip as question upon question plagued her mind. For what seemed like the millionth time, she tried to piece together the facts from the last day she had worked at the hospital. Flu-like symptoms, number of patients tripling in a matter of minutes, rumors of an epidemic.

Looking at the facts only raised more questions, though. And what frustrated her even more was that she didn't have the answers. How could she help if she didn't know what she was dealing with? Worse yet, how could she deal with it without the proper medical equipment and supplies?

"We're here, princess," Daryl called out, pulling the Rover to a stop at the edge of camp.

As her gaze strayed outside, however, it was obvious that something was wrong. The quiet ride was a sharp contrast to the palpable tension at the camp. An argument had broken out near the pile of walker corpses, but the group blocked C.C. from seeing anything.

"What do you think's going on?" she asked, straightening in her seat.

"Don't know, but it looks like we're about to find out," Daryl replied, not bothering to look at her as he slipped out of the Rover and tossed the keys in her lap.

Matt rushed over to greet her, throwing Daryl a brief glare when they crossed paths. Daryl just shook his head and kept walking.

"You _really_ have to stop going off without me," Matt said, irritation lining his words. "What happened to sticking together, to not leaving each other behind?"

"I waited for you, but you took too long coming back from the quarry," she replied absentmindedly, reaching into the backseat for their bags.

"I was gone, like, ten minutes. Would it have killed you to wait that long? You can't go out there alone. It's dangerous."

"I know," she sighed, leaning back against the vehicle.

"What's wrong?" Matt's tone suddenly changed. He spared Daryl a glance before turning back to her. "Did he do something to you?"

"What? No, nothing happened," C.C. quickly assured him, then took a deep breath. "I saw Inez," she said quietly. Her brother's shoulders sagged, his face turning somber. "Matt, where were you when all this started happening? How did you know - "

"C.C.," Rick stepped in apologetically. "I'm sorry, but I need your help. Jim got bit."

C.C. shot her brother a sympathetic look. They would have to continue the conversation later. With a slight nod to Rick, she followed the sheriff to the RV. But she hadn't gone more than a few steps when Andrea approached her.

"What the hell's going on?" Andrea asked, her voice a mixture of sadness and anger.

"What do you - "

"The outbreak," someone else supplied, and C.C. suddenly felt like she couldn't breathe as the group crowded around her. "You're a doctor. What's happening to everybody?"

"I don't know," C.C. replied truthfully. She looked at all their desperate faces, hating that she was in the same situation.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Another person asked.

The group pressed in. They wanted answers, she knew, but she didn't have them.

"She means she doesn't know!" Matt stepped in and moved in front of her so that they could back off. "I took her away before the world went to shit."

"This is why I want to go to the CDC," Rick said, taking a stand next to Matt. "We'll get the answers we need there."

"The CDC," C.C. gasped. _Why didn't _I _think of that?_ She stepped between Matt and Rick to face the group. "One of their main focuses is infectious diseases and microbial infections. It's obvious that whatever's going on has escalated into an epidemic." She turned to Rick and nodded. "They'll most definitely have answers. It's been a couple of months. I'm sure they're also working on preventive measures."

Rick shot her an appreciative look, then faced the crowd. "Preventive measures...maybe even a cure? We're cut off from everything up here with no real means of communicating with anyone other than through CB radio. For all we know, the CDC has already started working on something."

"Fine," Shane said, though the tone of his voice indicated he was far from it. "Look, there are no guarantees either way. I'll be the first to admit that..."

_Either way?_ C.C. though with a frown. So this had probably been the topic of discussion when she and Daryl arrived. But what other alternative was there? To her, the CDC was the best place to go.

"...but I've known this man for a long time," Shane continued. "I trust his instincts. I say the most important thing here is we need to stay together."

With that, the group grudgingly dispersed, their anger satisfied for the time being.

Matt nudged her arm. "I'll bring over your med kit, then I'll go get our stuff together. You gonna be okay?"

"I'll be fine," she assured him and followed Rick to the RV.

Jim was sitting in bed, cradling a bucket in his hands. A quick look told C.C. that Jim wasn't doing well at all - something she deliberately kept from showing on her face. Instead, she offered him a smile and sat down on the bed next to him.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, quickly noting his symptoms and checking his vitals.

He was sweating profusely with fits of coughs racking his body. She grabbed a wet rag and reached over to blot his face. His eyes looked glazed over, like he was having trouble focusing.

"Watch the mangroves," Jim warned weakly. "Their roots will gouge the boat."

"He was saying that earlier," Rick said from behind her. "I think he's hallucinating."

She nodded. "That makes sense. He has a high fever. I'd say over 103 if it's causing hallucinations." Matt came in with her med kit, and she quickly took out her stethoscope and motioned to Rick. "Can you help me move him forward?" She scooted closer to Jim while Rick gently leaned him forward. "Jim, I'm going to listen to your lungs, okay? Can you take some deep breaths for me?"

Behind Jim's back, C.C. shook her head at Rick as she listened to Jim breathe. The sick man didn't have much time. He needed immediate medical attention that she could only provide with hospital equipment.

"I left them," Jim suddenly whispered as Rick eased him back into a sitting position.

"Left who?" C.C. asked quietly. His eyes had cleared, and he appeared to be lucid again.

"My family...I ran when the walkers attacked. I left them behind," he answered, his voice hitching between words. "I deserve this. I should've died with them."

"You can't think that way," C.C. said forcefully. If he was in a weak mental state, his physical health would quickly deteriorate. "I'm going to help you, I promise. But you need to stay with me, okay?"

Jim slumped in defeat. "You don't have to lie to me. I know I'm bad...I can _feel_ it. But it's okay, I'm ready. I want to be with my family."

"Jim..."

But he reached out and grabbed her arm, cutting off anything else that she was going to say. His strength was surprising. His fingernails dug into her skin. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rick shift, ready to hold Jim back, but she gave him a slight shake of her head to stop him.

She could see the pain in Jim's eyes. He was suffering more mentally than he was physically. She believed him. He wasn't afraid to die. Not when it meant he would finally be free of the burden he'd been carrying.

"You're lucky, you know," Jim whispered. "You still have your brother. Hold onto him with all you've got and don't let go. You never know...you just never know..."

Then he released her, leaving a red imprint of his hand marked on her arm. He looked out the window, eyes glazing over as he once again succumbed to the mental nightmares about his family.

######

"He asked to be left behind, Cee. Don't beat yourself up over it," Matt spoke up, breaking the silence.

"I'm not. I just wish I could've done more."

"You made him as comfortable as you could."

"Aspirin doesn't fix heartache," she mumbled.

She could still see the haunted look in Jim's eyes, still hear the despair in his voice. Yes, he had made the decision to be left behind in a rare moment of lucidity, and they had no choice but to honor his wish, but she still felt helpless. C.C. could only hope that he had found the peace he was so desperately looking for.

"We're so close to the CDC. Maybe we'll still have time to go back for Jim once we talk to someone there," she said, more for her own comfort than for her brother's.

"You sure you're gonna find what you're looking for?" He gave her a sidelong glance before focusing back on the road.

"There's nowhere else to go, Matty. The CDC _has_ to be the answer."

It got quiet again. C.C. assured herself that there were going in the right direction. They were low on gas, no food with only _hope_ keeping them from giving up. But as the caravan of cars slowed to a stop in front of the CDC, all idealistic visions of help were shattered.

For a brief moment, she could only stare in disbelief. It looked like a war zone. Sand bag barricades and military vehicles lined up the front of the building. What seemed like hundreds of bodies, both civilians and soldiers alike, were littered all around the courtyard of the CDC.

"What the hell..." Matt murmured before exiting the vehicle. C.C. did the same, slowly opening her door at the sight before her.

And then the smell hit her. The putrid odor of decaying flesh was so strong that she almost gagged. She raised the back of her hand to her nose and started breathing through her mouth as they all carefully made their way to the entrance. C.C. kept her eyes on the building ahead, trying to drown out the rotten smell and the droning sound of flies buzzing over the corpses. As they reached the building, Shane immediately set about trying to raise the metal gates, but they were locked.

"There's nobody here," T-Dog whispered.

"Then why are the shutters down?" Rick asked.

"They've must've gone on lockdown," C.C. suggested, gesturing to the bodies scattered around them. "These gates won't shut without someone activating them from the inside."

"Walkers!" Daryl shouted, diverting everyone's attention as he took one down with his crossbow. Then he turned on Rick. "You led us into a graveyard!"

"He made a call," Shane said, running over to intercept Daryl.

"It was the wrong damn call!" Daryl yelled, and C.C. couldn't help but feel responsible. If anything, _she_ had been the one to make that call when she backed Rick up. But it had been the _right_ call. She knew it was.

"Everyone just calm down," C.C. said forcefully and got between Shane and Daryl, holding out her hands to keep them apart. She was an emergency room doctor. She had been taught to control chaos. "There has to be an explanation..."

"There's nothing," Shane interrupted before turning to Rick. "This is a dead end."

"Look around you! The military was obviously protecting something," she insisted, but Shane ignored her. Instead, he focused on Rick.

"Fort Benning," Shane said. "Still an option."

Of course. The alternative. The military would have food and shelter. And, in the end, it had come down to just that. The need for basic necessities...or the need for information. C.C. had chosen the latter.

"On what? We have no food, no fuel," Lori demanded. "That's 100 miles."

"We need to get out of here," Matt warned, and C.C. could hear the faint moaning of more walkers being alerted to their presence. He grabbed her arm and started dragging her back to the car.

Shane nodded, ushering everyone away from the doors. "Alright, everyone back to the cars. Let's go!"

"Wait! The camera...it moved," Rick claimed, making C.C. look over at him. He banged on the doors. "I know you're in there! I know you can hear me!"

The tension swirled around them as Shane attempted to pull Rick away, but Rick wouldn't budge. C.C.'s heart sped up. She _knew_ it. Someone _had_ to be inside.

"Please," Rick pleaded to the camera. "We're desperate. We have women and children, no food, hardly any gas. We have nowhere else to go."

C.C. waited with bated breath, oblivious to the commotion of everyone scrambling and Shane yelling. Her eyes desperately searched the camera, hoping for any tiny movement. But there was nothing.

"If you don't let us in you're killing us!"

Rick's cries for help echoed around the courtyard. C.C. could feel Matt pulling at her waist, and she knew that if she didn't move, he would just throw her over his shoulder if it meant getting her to safety. One second passed...then two and three. Still nothing.

"Bastards," she whispered.

She reluctantly looked away, ready to run back to the car when a deafening noise made them all freeze. All they could do was stare as light flooded over them and the metal shutter opened. The feeling of helplessness was gone, and in its place was the one thing she had been trying so hard to hold on to.

Hope.


End file.
